


Relief

by dismiss_your_fearsx



Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: Extended Scene, S3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 17:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11317764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dismiss_your_fearsx/pseuds/dismiss_your_fearsx
Summary: Ross tells Caroline that Dwight is alive.





	Relief

Caroline Enys sat in front of the fading fire in the large sitting room of Killewarren. Having disposed of her book, after reading the same paragraph for the best part of an hour, she was slowly beginning to fall asleep until the sound of heavy footsteps came marching through the parlour.   
She leaped up, with as much composed grace as she could muster, and waited for the footsteps to approach the open door.

Ross.

So, he had returned from France, after all - on that part her conscience was clear and she could breathe more freely again - but did he bring news of Dwight?   
She studied his face carefully but it gave nothing away, good or bad. This damned man, she thought, has a permanent poker face, one would think he was constantly surrounded by enemies.   
"Well?" she asked the figure that lingered in the doorway.

He approached her, expressionless, and then, "Dwight is alive, his name is on this list but-"

Whatever Ross said next she would never know; for her ears rang relentlessly as her heart unclenched and finally allowed the blood to fully circulate her body. Her head spun, the word "alive" looping over and over again, then her knees became weak and she reached for Ross, unable to stand on her own.   
She cried freely yet was unable to fully unload the deep sobs of relief she had been holding in for months. Ross waited patiently until Caroline had composed herself again and helped her to her feet.

She stared at him as if he were the archangel Gabriel and thought at that moment - were it not for the deep love she held for both her husband, Dwight, and her dear friend, Demelza - she might have kissed him with such passion it would be considered sinful.   
"Ross, I cannot express my gratitude. To take such a risk and with no guarantee of-"

"The risk was much exaggerated," he interrupted, brushing off praise as he would a piece of Garrick's hair from his coat. He handed her the list for confirmation and she scanned it, a wide smile appearing on her face as she saw his name. "I am glad for you, Caroline. And for myself. And the people of Cornwall, once Dwight returns. And, not at least, for Dwight himself." He cleared his throat softly and smiled slightly. "I'm afraid I must avail you of my company. Having neglected her in favour of adventures in France, Demelza is anxious to have me home and within her sights."

"Yes, I know," Caroline smirked suggestively. "Goodnight then, Ross."

He bent over and kissed her hand. "Goodnight, Caroline."

/

"Dwight is alive, my precious!" she exclaimed excitedly to an apathetic Horace once she reached her bedchamber. She grabbed the plump creature from his favourite spot, the foot of her bed, and squeezed him against her breast. "Truly, Horace, I am in earnest, look!" She showed him the letter in which the name Dwight Enys was clearly labelled as a prisoner of Quimper; Horace softly growled at the sight and mention of Dwight's name, but Caroline took it as a grunt of gratification at the news of his safety.

She and Horace lay on top of the bed covers as Caroline stared at the name, smoothing it over with her long fingers, hoping he could somehow feel her touch.   
"Do you think our dear Dr. Enys thinks of me, Horace?" She did not wait for a reply. "Of course he thinks of me, but what does he think of? I think of him often, more often than I would care to admit to another living soul, perhaps save Demelza. I think of his eyes, particularly the peculiar way in which they seem to light up when he looks at me," she smiled slightly. "I think of the lights in his hair, of our races on the beach, of our secret meeting in the inn in Plymouth," her cheeks had now coloured and her smile grew wider. "Of his care for others, of his soothing voice, of our wedding day," she concluded with a happy sigh, her teeth fully exposed.

She studied the list again, the word 'Quimper' coming into her focus, her smile slowly faded. "I wonder if he has bedding and if he finds it satisfactory. He is a surgeon, after all, and a lieutenant, perhaps he even has his own room and his own fireplace. I hope he is not cold," her voice cracked slightly. "I hope he is eating enough oranges as well as getting sufficient sleep, though doubtless he will be determined to cure every prisoner of their ills without a single care for himself or the consequences it will have for me, his wife, back home! Truly, Horace, I have married an infuriating man," she said, a single hot tear rolling down her face.   
She quickly wiped it away and took a deep breath. "But no, Horace, tonight she mustn't fret or despair; Dwight is alive and for now that knowledge will be enough." Horace neither agreed nor disagreed, having fallen asleep in a jealous rage some time ago now.

Caroline yawned, allowing happy memories to flood her mind. "Tomorrow we must begin our plan to free Dwight. With my fortune and influence, Demelza's hope and common sense and Ross's bravery and determination I am confident that we will prevail, and Dwight will return home to us."

She dozed off with ease -dreaming of him, as always - with Horace under her arm, the letter in her hand and the shoes still on her feet.

 


End file.
